


Laced

by gravastellar (CoffeyTime)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Body Dysphoria, Implied Sexual Content, Insecurities, Lance is a model, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Trans Lance (Voltron), alcohol use, but not completely slow, keith has an internship, lingerie model, shiro is his current photographer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeyTime/pseuds/gravastellar
Summary: Lance works as a model for Altea, a lingerie magazine company run by Allura.Keith is a dropout who is interning as a photographer for Altea, and you can thank Shiro for that.





	1. Chapter 1

“Ahh,” Lance drawled, crashing into his lounge chair, finally, after a long day. His head lolled back and to the side, taking the opportunity of silence to close his eyes...

_Boom._

Lance didn’t even flinch when the door flew open. A second later a voice was heard grunting as they stepped into the trailer and Lance let his eyes slowly open as he stared, tiredly, at Hunk.

Hunk, who, bless his heart, was holding Lance’s favorite takeout in one hand, and new facial masks in the other. Lance just stared at him as tears slowly formed and threatened to spill over. Not because he was emotional or anything, but -

“Hu~unk,” Lance cried, closing his eyes as his chin quivered, “I can’t move but I want to give you the biggest fucking hug.” He proved as much when his arms twitched on the armrests, the very fluffy and comfortable robe he was wearing draping over the sides.

Hunk was at his side in an instant, not wasting time in throwing the lever on the chair with his foot to make it recline. He set the takeout down and pulled up a small stool with his now free hand. He rummaged through the facial mask bag as he took a seat.

“How are we feeling Lance?”

Lance rolled his head almost effortlessly to face his best friend, his makeup artist, and the kindest person in the entire universe. He was about to give him an earful and he knew Hunk would listen and snap him out of whatever he was being emotional about. Which! He wasn’t! He’s just… tired.

Tired… of…

“I’m so tired of the hours they have me stand in front of those dumb bright lights that kill the stupidly perfect makeup you spend hours on,” a hand comes up from the armrest as he gestures at nothing. “I’m so tired of being on my feet for so many hours with only a small couple minute break in between shoots,” he brings up his bare foot as he sticks it out and points with both hands. “Which!” His leg goes down as he brings a hand close to his face, sitting up to make a more dramatic point. “Aren’t even breaks!” His head comes forward to punctuate his words. “They shove me into a dressing room and shove things at me to get me into the next outfit and in doing so they smudge your makeup you, again, spent hours on!” He brings his hands to hold onto Hunk’s shoulders as he shakes him gently. “You have to touch it up! And they don’t give you much time to do that, and…”

Lance could go on, he really could, but it was kind of hard when Hunk was pressing a cool cucumber mask to his face. Instant relaxation, and Hunk knew it. Sneaky best friend.

“You know as well as I do none of those statements are true,” Hunk chuckled as he guided his best friend back into a reclining position. “Altea loves you and pampers the quiznak out of you.”

Lance’s eyes closed on a sigh. “Did Coran get you into saying that, too?”

Hunk’s only reply was a chuckle before continuing. “Like I was saying, Altea loves you. As if they’re going to make their best model go through crap like that,” he grinned, patting his friend’s shoulder as he finished up the mask.

Lance tried to hold back his smile to no avail, looking up at his friend with crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

“Now come on, you need to eat,” Hunk stood from the stool, moved it back where he found it, and went for the takeout bag. “I know you haven’t eaten anything and if you don’t eat I won’t tell you what other face masks I got you.”

Lance sighed, pulling on the lever of his recliner and slowly coming back to a sitting position. He adjusted his robes as he shuffled in the seat to get more comfortable, bringing his legs up to lay on top of each other in the chair, leaning to the right and taking the box that was handed to him.

He could smell the pulled pork and, more importantly, the maduros. Bless. Hunk.

He opened the fork from it’s plastic wrapping and opened the box to reveal his treats and dug straight in, letting out a content groan. He only ate a couple more bites because the place these specific ones came from happened to load on the sugar, and he was on a ‘very strict’ diet according to Pidge. He plucked up a few strands of pulled pork and was careful not to stretch his mouth too wide to rip the mask. Why wasn’t he as careful when eating the maduros? Maduros came first, especially on a day like today.

He inhaled and closed the box, suddenly not feeling very hungry as he swallowed the remaining pork in his mouth. Hunk was watching on sympathetically, not even having to be prompted to lift the box away from Lance. Lance, who, turned away from hunk and carefully rested his head on the back of the recliner, eyes falling shut.

Hunk got up and put the remaining food in the mini fridge kept in Lance’s RV. He set down the facial masks somewhere in the bathroom and the next thing Lance knew, Eric Whitacre’s “The Seal Lullaby” softly started playing somewhere behind him. Lance felt his shoulders relax more as he let out a small sigh. The third time the singers maintained a note, Lance felt a hand on his head.

“Thank you, Hunk.”

“It’s what I’m here for. I’ll be outside with Pidge greeting the new camera man if you need us,” Lance peeked open an eye to watch him head over to the door. “He’s gonna be sitting in on your next shoot, so I’ll be sure to make sure you make a good impression,” he turned his head back in Lance’s direction to deliver a wink and his sweet smile that Lance just loves. Lance gave him a small smile in return. He really did love his friend.

_“Oh! Hush thee, my baby…”_

Hunk closed the door to the RV gently as to not disturb the singers from their opening lyrics.

_“And black are the waters…”_

A new camera man? Lance turned in his seat again before standing up, letting the robe around him fall and settle.

_“The moon, o’er the combers…”_

He walked over to the bathroom to rummage through the different masks before catching sight of himself in the relatively medium sized mirror. His shoulders were definitely broadening and he stood a little straighter, giving himself a smile.

_“At rest in the hollows…”_

He proceeded to take off the mask, carefully, and disposed of it into the bin next to the sink. He made sure to wash his hands first before gently rubbing in what was left on the mask. His left hand stalled on his cheek as he studied himself in the mirror, blue eyes roaming around his reflection’s face. He wasn’t thinning out as fast as he was hoping but there was definitely improvement. Less round, more sharper features.

_“Where billow meets billow…”_

As the deeper vocals picked up the next line, Lance leaned away from the mirror and reached up to stretch. He took off his robe and hung it on the door, taking the blue lace bra off and carefully hanging it after the robe. He crossed his arms with a shaky inhale of breath.

_“Oh weary wee flipperling...”_

He bypassed the mirror completely, grabbing a well worn shirt in his small bedroom in the back of the camper, throwing it on and standing facing the hallway in front of the bed. He stood there as the singers continued to hopefully serenade him.

_“The storm shall not wake thee...”_

He slowly drew the thin curtain that separated the hallway from the bed, giving him a little more privacy. He then fell backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

_“Asleep in the arms of the slow swinging seas…”_

Lance closed his eyes and turned on his side, curling in on himself and willing himself to get some sleep, some rest, before having to meet a stranger. A new face who doesn’t know him, who probably won’t want to know him, just like all the others. Nothing is going to be new about this one.

_“Asleep in the arms…”_

As the vocals faded back out into smaller and more calmer notes, he felt himself begin to break off and settle in for a nap.

 

* * *

 

A sharp rap at the door was enough to wake him up, his eyelids slowly opening. He was faintly aware that his mouth was open slightly. He was on his back, a leg was hanging off the side of the bed, and the he was hearing some sort of melody drifting in through the curtain.

Slowly he came to himself, blinking his eyes a couple of times and closing his mouth. He stretched his arms above him, feeling them hit the pillows before using the momentum of the stretch to pull himself up. He refrained from rubbing at his eyes as he scooted to the edge and stood, his shirt falling back down over his thighs. He loved this stupid big shirt. It had no right to be as comfortable as it is.

Truth is, he stole it from Hunk a long time ago. He loves that it swallows his figure. He loves how soft it is, and after all this time, he can still faintly make out his friend’s cologne of choice that he continues to use after all this time.

He recognizes the melody now playing on the speaker as the tail end of Eric Whitacre’s “October” and huffs out a laugh. He really did love his friend. Knew exactly what to put on to help him ease back into himself. He enjoyed how soft and melodic Eric’s pieces were and they helped settle him back into a relaxed state.

There was another couple raps at the door, reminding him that there was someone waiting on him. He opened the door a crack, ear facing the door and face away from whoever the person was because he figured it was Hunk. Hunk wasn’t talking like he normally would be at this point.

His eyebrows creased as he opened the door a little further, looking to the person who knocked on the door only to find…

“Pidgeon!” Lance brightened almost immediately before he seemed to remember himself and just who was at the door, and proceeded to scowl.

“Don’t give me that look!” They adjusted their glasses, huffing. “Listen I just wanted to inform you that you’re having a pinup session some time in the future, I don’t have the actual date for you yet.” They moved to lean against the side of the camper and look out at the people off in the distance.

Lance followed their gaze, immediately picking Hunk out of the crowd talking with a couple other people.

“So that means,” they brought their gaze back to Lance, eyes peeking out over the glasses. “No more maduros until after.”

Lance felt a blush working itself onto his face and he looked away from Pidge’s judging stare. How did they figure out that he had maduros earlier? “Ugh,” he huffed, bringing his arms up to cross them in front of his chest as he cocked out a hip. “So what’s the regimine, chief?”

Pidge pulled out their phone, thumbing through a few notes before pulling up Lance’s routine and began tweaking it for the upcoming shoot.

“So instead of doing them three times a week, we’re going to hit cardio hard for two days and rest for one, then repeat.” They sent the newly documented note to his phone and he heard Eric’s currently playing song stutter as the ding notifies him of his message. “After a week, we’ll play it by ear.”

He let a whine escape him. Not that he didn’t like working out, he just really didn’t enjoy when Pidge got in their vigorous training mode. He already lived through that when they were first hired to get him into shape at the very beginning when he started working here. Not that he was out of shape by any means. In fact, he near pleaded with Allura to hire a personal trainer for him. Allura had been completely confused as to why he’d ask a question like that and he had told her it was to keep up the figure he wanted to represent Altea with. She had been happy with that and let him have the pick from a list. Hunk had mentioned Pidge and that’s where that started.

Having pidge as his personal trainer was not only comforting to him, but also they understood his struggle and did their best to help him. It still confuses him that Pidge is still a younger teen. They have the stature of one, yes, but they seem to be extremely mature.

He retreated into his RV, the door still opened so he could communicate with Pidge, and plucked the phone from the aux cord. “Alright. When do we start?”

“After today’s session. First thing tomorrow morning sound good with you?” Pidge was thumbing something into their phone, not looking up as they waited on a confirmation.

Lance managed a sound of affirmation before waving them off. He was studying the difference in the training as he closed the door. He hummed, placing the phone back down near the speakers and making his way back to the bathroom.

Even though he had only just gotten a small nap, he was going to wash his face. No use in telling him otherwise.

He was mid drying his face when another rap sounded at the door, followed by the door opening, and Hunk announcing his presence.

“Alright, Lance, are you ready to be the face of perfection?” He could hear Hunk rummaging around in the RV as he finished drying his face. Stifling a laugh, he tossed the hand towel into the sink and leaned against the bathroom door frame.

“Honey, aren’t I already?” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint and his smile was more of a playful smirk as he assumed a dramatic pose against the frame.

Hunk snickered, waving him over. “You bet you are,” he hummed, patting the chair in front of him.

Lance shuffled over and peered into the makeup bags Hunk brought with him to try to decipher a look. He was pretty good at figuring out the shoot’s overall theme by just looking at what hunk has put out. 

He made a noncommittal sound and sat back in the chair in front of Hunk.

“Not going to guess?”

“Nah, let it be a surprise this time,” Lance smiled, relaxing into the chair and closing his eyes, hearing Hunk go through and put on a playlist he likes to use while working on Lance’s makeup. It was a bunch of chill songs and soft melodies. It was perfect for calm work and concentration.

“So I had the chance to speak to the new camera guy,” Hunk began, smearing Lance’s face in foundation, blending it down.

Lance hummed, lifting an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Mhm… He doesn’t seem so bad. A little,” Hunk paused in his ministrations on Lance’s face, “standoffish? No that’s not the right word.”

He continued painting on Lance’s face, working slowly through his usual set up before adding the extras for the shoot.

“Well, you’ll meet him soon. He’s not bad, just trust me.”

Lance wasn’t worried. Either the stranger liked him or he didn’t. Either he was easy to talk to or he wasn’t. If Hunk said he was okay, Lance was inclined to believe him more than his own initial insecurities.

“He’ll be too blown away by your work to even notice me,” Lance made a gesture at his face with a grin, eyes still closed, at which Hunk snorted.

“He’s just going to be sitting in on the shoot so it might take longer. Coran wants to make sure he gets everything correct,” he was working on eyebrows next, brushing them out and pulling out the correct pencil. “You should catch him after the shoot and introduce yourself.”

“I will, I will,” Lance chuckled, batting at Hunk’s arm softly as to not disrupt his work.

Hunk rustled about in the bags for a few seconds before coming back. “Okay, finishing touch and then I’ve got to set it.”

Lance felt a brush against the apples of his cheeks up to his temples before the returned back to lightly dust his nose and chin. The brush disappeared and Hunk hummed, sounding pretty impressed.

“Can I look?” Lance sat up a bit in his chair, too excited to see the new look for the shoot.

Hunk’s response was a cute laugh followed by an approving noise.

Lance peeked open one eye before opening them both slowly, watching in the well-lit mirror how the small glittering highlights on his cheekbones brought attention to the dark blues around his eyes that seemed to resemble a night sky.

He _loved_ doing night-themed photo shoots. Anything having to do with space, really. Space and the ocean. He still secretly hopes that Allura will let him do a mermaid shoot. He’d rock that tail.

“Hunk, it’s so stunning,” he breathed, leaning closer on the counter to watch the way his eyes seem to pop with the dark blue hues on his eyelids. The shimmering wasn’t too over the top and just the perfect amount to make it look like twinkling stars.

He pulled out his phone and snapped a quick obscure selfie with a hint of his makeup in the corner. The caption read ‘can’t wait for you guys to see this one <3’ and he sent it off to his story.

“Alright let me set it,” Hunk picked up the setting spray and shook it, prompting Lance to close his eyes. There were four to five spritz and then Lance brought his free hand up to bat air into his face.

“So what do they have me wearing tonight?” He set down his phone and continued marveling at his makeup. His eyebrows were always shaped nicely and so was the contouring on his jaw and hollow of his cheeks. It really made him feel good about himself and made him feel less round in the face.

“It’s labelled ‘Sleep time’,” Hunk said, picking up the hanger and examining the name in the pocket on the front. He passed it over to Lance and went back to packing up and cleaning up the station. After this shoot, Lance was able to take a weekend off, so he won’t be in the RV much. Hunk always liked to keep things tidy.

Lance hummed as he got up from the chair and went to the bedroom to undress. Not that he had much on anyway, Hunk’s old shirt and his boxer briefs the only clothing he was truly in.

He unzipped the protector bag and lifted up the hanger to get a better view. It was a two piece lace set, the top was fitted around the breasts and a cute bow set in the middle. Sheer material hung from the undersides and the sides of the bra, ending in a wavy lace pattern just below his hips. The bottoms matched the top, less material on the backside and a small bow on either side. They were blue and black, seeming to gradient into each other.

He wasn’t too fond of this look but he wasn’t going to let Hunk’s good work go to waste.

Carefully, he set the outfit back down on the bed and slowly took off the shirt and tossed it on the pillow. He slipped out of his boxer briefs as well, tossing them to the side of the bed.

He slipped the top over his head and sighed at the way his breasts had to be set into the small, half cups provided, acting like a push-up bra. He made sure the adjustments in the back were correct and stepped into his bottoms, pulling them to rest up just above his hips. He felt around to be sure there were no twists and folds in the fabrics before stepping out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

He gave himself a once-over before grabbing his robe and pulling it on. Hunk would be waiting outside by the RV to give his hair a tousle. It was nice having short hair; even nicer that he didn’t have to get all fancy for these shoots. Windswept or sleepy looks popular with this magazine, it seems.

He ran his fingers through his hair, curls starting to grow back out. He made a mental note to get a trim this weekend while he had the chance before stepping out of the RV.

“Woah,” he paused on the steps, curling tighter into the robes before stepping down all the way to meet with Hunk again. “Was it this chilly earlier?”

“No, I think it’s actually going to rain later tonight, so let’s get moving,” Hunk said, playing with Lance’s hair while he ushered them to the shoot.

The people around the setup were few. He noticed Pidge wasn’t there, neither was Allura but she’d probably show up later. Coran was talking animatedly to someone Lance didn’t know. His cameraman was finishing setting up the lights. Seemed as though everyone was ready for the weekend.

He took his place next to the white sheets up on a mattress and turned around to Hunk.

“So this is just going to be a couple of shots,” he started. “I know you’ll ace them so we’ll be done quick, so kill ‘em out there,” he winked and held his arms out for the robe which Lance shrugged out of.

The room went quiet, and by room he meant Coran. Allura walked in with a hearty “good evening!” She made her way to Lance and Hunk backed up with a thumbs up to his best friend. Lance returned it with a smile and wink.

He carefully got up on the mattress, instantly picking at the sheets to make them more wrinkled and folded. Allura came up to him with a big smile, her shimmering pink blush catching in the lighting. Her white hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she was in a loose sweater and skinny jeans.

“Lance!”

“‘Lura!” He smiled and sat back on his arms, hands propping himself up.

“We know you’re going to be amazing on camera so I really have nothing to tell you, I just wanted to wish you a happy weekend. Oh!” She turned and waved over the Mystery Man that was talking to Coran earlier - or more like Coran was talking to. Turning back to face Lance once she saw him making his way over, she smiled. “Have you met Keith?”

“No, I haven’t had the chance,” he lifted his hand to scratch at the back of his head sheepishly. “After today’s earlier shoot I just passed out for a nap.”

“Oh that’s a shame! Well he’s going to be sitting in on this shoot to get tips and tricks from your normal cameraman. Then he’s going to have a practice shoot when you come back from your break.” She broke off and turned as Mystery Man - Keith - approached.

He seemed to look like he was sneaking up on a private conversation, eyes flicking from Allura to Lance before clearing his throat.

“Keith, this is Lance!” Allura held out her hand in a gesture towards Lance.

Lance sat up a little and leaned forward, holding out his hand towards Keith. He gave him his winning smirk and a wink. “Pleasure to meet you, Keith.”

Keith took a second before lifting his hand to meet Lance’s. “Ah, you too.”

Lance’s eyebrow quirked up in questioning before letting go of Keith’s hand. “So, here to be my new cameraman?”

“Not today,” which, okay, but that’s not what he was asking. “I’m actually here on internship. I’ll be doing your next shoot.” All things he already knew -

Internship?

“Internship?” Lance asked, suddenly interested. Allura never hired interns to work the cameras. He sent a quick glance at Allura, who was waving at him as she starting backing up.

“I’ll leave you both to it then, and have a wonderful weekend! I’m leaving out a bit early, so I’ll see you when everyone returns!”

When he looked back, Keith has a small blush on his face, it was cute. “Yeah, my big brother actually convinced Allura to let me on.” Oh, blush of frustration. Got it. Not cute.

“Oh! Well that was sweet of your brother.”

Keith shrugged, turning to look somewhere else as if he was done with the conversation already.

Well, alright then. He could see what Hunk was trying to say. Not that the guy was standoffish, he just didn’t know what to talk about it seems. He studied the other while he wasn’t looking at Lance. He didn’t even flinch or anything when Allura introduced him, so that was a good sign already.

“So! I guess I’ll see you after the shoot then?” Didn’t want him to stand around feeling awkward or anything. He knew the feeling all too well.

Keith looked up at him again, eyes wide. “Oh, ah, sure.” He seemed to pause before turning around and walking up to the cameraman who was signaling for Lance.

“Are we ready?”

“Sure, Shiro.”

 

* * *

 

The pictures turned out great.

Nothing new there.

Lance always nails his photo shoots, that’s why he’s considered the best model they have.

He walked up to Shiro after having gone back to the RV to take off makeup. He did put his binder on a little too quick because he wanted to get everyone before they left, and he pulled at the fabric under his shirt. His favorite Neat Dude snapback on followed by a comfortable two-toned long sleeve shirt, a blue and black checkered scarf, and his jacket hung over his arm. He felt good. Looked good. Boosted his self-confidence.

He was going to wish Shiro a happy weekend when he noticed the intern guy, Keith, standing next to him.

“-eed this internship,” he huffed, turning away from Shiro and walking off.

Shiro watched him go. Lance heard him sigh and saw his shoulders sag a bit. He tapped Shiro’s shoulder, walking around to stand beside him.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just,” Shiro gestured in the direction of Keith and Lance followed his gesture, eyes lingering on Keith’s back as he watched him walk off towards Shiro’s car.

Lance hummed, nodding. “Ah, boyfriend trouble.”

Shiro sighed, shaking his head, before looking back at Lance. “No, Lance. Keith’s my brother.”

Lance continued to watch Keith, taking in the noticeable features he could from a distance. Broad shoulders, very nice. Clothes were more or less solid black - was he fifteen? Wait, what’s going on with his hair.

“It just grows like that, trust me. He refuses to go get a haircut, too.” Shiro was watching Lance while trying to contain his laughter. When Lance snapped his head back at Shiro with a blush, Shiro turned his head away with a cough.

“Anyway,” Lance attempts to will the blush away as he gets back on track. “What’s up then?”

“He’s confident he doesn’t need this internship and he says he’s insulted to think that I would get him this in the first place, but,” Shiro pauses and looks back at Keith, who was leaning against the car studying his phone. “He’s a good photographer and he wants to do that for a living. He just needs to get his foot in the door and I thought this was a good opportunity.”

Lance nodded, eyes slipping back to Keith as Shiro talked. His posture was rigid and looked like he could use some relaxation.

“So what does he do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, when he’s not,” Lance gestured at Keith as if that would explain it.

It actually does.

“Well, he has a motorcycle he’s building from scratch. Other than that, he enjoys observing the stars and reading up on astronomy,” Shiro listed off.

Lance had grabbed hold of the motorcycle statement already and had been running wild in his imagination. Astronomy? What else did they have in common, he wondered.

“That’s… really cool, Shiro. Would you mind if i borrowed him this afternoon?” His eyes were back on Shiro’s face and he was practically pleading with Shiro. He started putting his jacket on as he waited.

Shiro’s eyebrows rose and his eyes darted from Lance to Keith, then back to Lance before seeming to have an internal battle with himself. His eyebrows drew closer together before relaxing, shrugging his shoulders as he lets out a small “eh, sure why not.”

Lance smiles, clapping Shiro’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

Shiro waved as Lance walked off, a small bounce in his step as he approached Keith. He planted his maroon converse clad feet about a yard away from Keith and leaned over, hands stuck on his hips. He smiled when Keith glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow and a guarded expression.

“Hey, Keith. You busy?”

Keith studied him before looking around him, probably at Shiro before his expression changed to what Lance would dare to coin as betrayal. He looked back at Lance with a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, gone in an instant. Replaced once more by the brooding look he was dawning earlier.

“Why.”

“I’d like to get to know you a bit more! Seeing as you’re going to be taking the pictures for my next shoot.”

Lance smiled and straightened back up, head tilting as he waiting for an answer to his previous question.

Keith seemed to study him before looking away with a shrug.

“Cool, how’s coffee sound because I could use a pick me up after today. It just kept on dragging, like it was never going to end!” Lance made exaggerated motions with his arms before sliding up to Keith. “Also we’re taking my car.”

Keith seemed to be flustered at the sudden burst of energy and the close proximity from Lance, but he wouldn’t know. He’s not in that head of Keith’s. Not yet anyway.

“Plus, I hear you dabble in astronomy and that’s something we have in common, so I’m gonna pick your brain.”

“Oh, you… you’re… you have an interest in astronomy?” Keith seemed to perk up a bit at that, eyes widening a bit as he studied Lance’s face again.

Lance, who, was blushing because of the look he was receiving. Being studied. In close proximity. He cleared his throat before stepping away from the other, doing something fancy with his feet and causing himself to lose his balance for a hot minute.

“Yeah!” His voice pitched higher at the tail end and he coughed. “Yeah, it was one of the things I was interested in pursuing in school.” He made his way to where his car was parked, positive that Keith was hot on his heels.

“School?”

“The Garrison!” He stated with pride.

“The… Garrison. The space school?”

“The one and only!”

“Oh, did you want to be an engineer?”

Lance twirled around. “What? No. I wanted to be a fighter pilot!”

Keith raised his brows in almost amazement. “Really?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, it’s just… I wanted to be a fighter pilot too.”

“No way!” Lance started backing up, a smile on his face. “Small world! To think we’d both end up doing something else.” He turned around and unlocked his car. “This is Blue and she’s a nice gal. No littering,” he pointed at Keith before opening the driver’s door and sliding in.

He buckled himself in and before he knew it, Keith was sliding into the passenger seat. He closed the door a little too harshly and Lance may or may not have winced, but he didn’t comment on it. He was too busy taking pleasure in the way Keith was marveling the interior.

Midnight leather interior with blue lights underneath the seats and dashboard made the car seem like it was underwater. A plaster flower and seashell necklace hung from around the rear-view mirror and a pair of sunglasses hung from that. He cranked the car and Sirius greeted him with his favorite playlist, which he turned down for the time being. Blue purred as Lance put her in reverse and he began his exit from the parking lot.

“So do you have a favorite coffee shop in town?” He glanced down at the clock. Fifteen past three; they could make it to the nearest Red Owl before it closed. Maybe go for a walk in the nearby park. Gotta get to know the photographer, right? That’s all this is.

Right?

“Not particularly. I rarely drink coffee or anything overly sweet.”

“Red Owl sound okay to you? They’ve got teas and other things as well as coffee if you prefer.”

“Yeah sure, I’ve been meaning to try their green smoothie,” Keith shifted a bit in his seat, crossing one leg over the other and turning to face Lance a little more.

“Green smoothie, huh? On a health kick?” Lance smirked, glancing over at Keith before turning his attention back to the road.

“Well, I do cardio, but no, not really a health kick. It’s just habit I guess.”

“Oh. Well, Mr. Habit-I-Guess, would it be okay if i joined you for a run sometime?”

Lance caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, guessing it was Keith shuffling in his seat, but didn’t want to take his eyes off the road. There was a small stretch of silence as Lance pulled into the drive through line at Red Owl.

“...Sure, I wouldn’t mind.”

Lance looked up at Keith and noticed he was looking away and if Lance squint hard enough he could make out the faint pink of Keith’s eartips, but only if he squint. Which Lance did not.

He was still watching Keith slightly in awe before someone honked behind him, making him jump slightly and pull forward, flustered attention now on the barista taking his order.

“Hey there, how can I help you?”

“Hey! A… large caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso and a green smoothie, please.”

“Alright that’s going to be eight fifty-two! Be right back.” They disappeared behind the window to work on the order and Lance turned back to Keith only to see him looking back at him.

They continued to look at each other until Lance felt a bit fidgety and broke eye contact with a clearing of his throat. “So-”

“Did-”

“Oh, uh, you first,” Lance gestured for Keith to continue.

“Oh, I was just… It’s not that important.”

“...You sure?”

“Yeah, what were you going to say?”

“Oh…” Lance rubbed the back of his neck. “Shiro mentioned you were building a motorcycle?” Lance adjusted himself in the seat and turned to face Keith a bit more.

“Yeah.”

“Like, actually building a bike?”

“Yeah.”

“From scratch?” Lance’s voice rose as he leaned in, disbelieving.

“Um… Yeah?” Keith’s eyes darted from to left and back to Lance as if he thought Lance was going to crazy.

“Woah…” Lance relaxed back into his seat just before the barista returned and handed them the drinks. Lance handed Keith his smoothie and got his wallet out of his pocket, placing the latte in his cup holder. He pulled out a ten and a fiv and handed it to the barista, telling her to keep the tip.

They drove off and Lance wasted no time in taking them to the nearest park which happened to be a block over. It was fairly large with a family picnic area and playground next to it. There were multiple trails and a LARP-ing group loved to come here for their sessions on Thursdays.

It was Friday, however, and it was starting to cool down with autumn sneaking up on them. The leaves weren’t red or orange yet, much to Lance’s dismay, but the sun hitting the green and yellow leaves at around five in the afternoon was the best time to be on a walk. It was his favorite time of the day and he loved this park. Especially one area he likes to escape to when he’s feeling particularly Bad.

Maybe he’d show that spot to Keith.

Not… Not now. Maybe later.

He pulled into a parking spot and put Blue in park, patting the steering wheel.

“Fancy a little stroll?”

Keith chuckled, grabbing his smoothie and hopping out the car, looking around at the park. “Woah, I knew this place was here but I’ve never actually been here.”

“It’s a nice place, especially on days like today and just before the sun sets. You’ll see what I mean.” Lance smiled and locked the door, latte in hand. “On Thursdays, there’s this group of LARPers who take up the back area back there,” he pointed in the direction, leaning closer to Keith so he could get in his line of sight.

The back was very open but it was hidden slightly from view unless looking from a certain angle. He had leaned into Keith’s space without prompting and he knew this. He quickly distanced himself from the other with a fumble of words. “A-ah, sorry,” he put, what he was sure, was a comfortable distance between them before he started walking again.

He could have sworn he heard Keith mutter “it’s fine,” but he wasn’t about to turn around and put him on the spot and ask for clarification.

He’s also blushing a little, trying to get it to go away before Keith caught up to him. Which he did. Lance was sipping on his latte, pretending to be very interested in the playground to their left.

“So why did you decide on being a lingerie model?” Keith asked.

Lance looked up at him, his tongue sticking out slightly as he held the straw in between his tongue and his teeth.

“I mean, no offense or anything. Just… You said you wanted to be a fighter pilot.”

Lance looked away, back at the playground before slowly letting his gaze be directed at his feet. The grass barely made a sound other than a soft ‘whish’ as they walked, not really on a path to anywhere.

“I… didn’t have the scores for it.”

Keith remained quiet. They passed a trash bin and he tossed his empty green smoothie cup.

“Okay, so… Why a model then?”

“Uh, have you seen me?” Lance slid him a smirk, even though it was half-assed. He felt like he wasn’t good enough just now and he needed to pretend he was. Just…

Pretend.

As usual.

Keith raised an eyebrow and gave him a once-over, causing Lance to blush, again.

He’s really gotta stop doing that.

Blushing.

Around Keith.

 _Because_ of Keith.

“Well, yeah,” Keith shrugged. Lance’s eyes widened a bit and he blushed a little more. “What I mean is, was it your first option?”

 _Would you get a grip! You’re not a school girl, Lance!_ He mentally slapped himself.

“No, I actually wanted to be a stripper,” he smirked again, a little more honest. Managing to form small crinkles in the corner of his eye. “They make a _lot_ of dough, dude.”

Keith rolled his eyes but chuckled. “So I’ve heard.”

“Have you?”

“Shiro’s a bartender on weekends. Bartender at a strip club. The stories I’ve heard,” he shook his head, chuckling.

“Oh, really now?” Lance huffed a small, short lived laugh.

They continued walking in the grass with a shared chuckle as Keith retold the story of how Shiro had walked in on some guy giving a lady a lap dance. He waited until they had their breathing back to normal before retelling his story of how he became a model.

“Actually,” he began, tossing his now empty latte cup in another bin as they passed. “Allura was a friend of mine from high school,” he recalled with a fond expression. “I remember when I used to chase after her. I was so sure she was gonna fall for me at any moment. She always turned me down, though.

“Anyway, I heard she was in the city and that she owned a fairly new, but quickly gaining in popularity, magazine. We met up for coffee - totally platonic coffee, mind you - and she got one look of my handsome mug and offered me a job right then and there!” 

He may have… exaggerated there. He was more or less begging for her to give him a chance and when she finally did, she stuck him with Hunk and told him to work his magic. The first shoot was a success, but only then did he figure out it was a lingerie magazine. He was a little thrown off at that, and Allura had discovered a - at the time - secret he wasn’t willing to disclose to anyone.

Allura had been really sweet about it though, saying they didn’t discriminate and that anyone who tried to will be answering to her. She can get pretty scary when she’s in the right mood.

He became one of her best models in under a month. Both personally and to their readers.

Anyway, Keith didn’t really need to know… all of that.

Speaking of.

Keith was looking at him with a disbelieving expression. His eyelids were half-lidded - not in the sexy way - and his mouth was turned down in a frown. 

“What? It’s the truth!”

“Sure. You realize I _can_ just ask my brother.”

Lance stopped walking and attempted to speak, every one failing after the first syllable or consonant.

Keith stopped walking and looked back at Lance before doubling over with a gasping laugh.

“Your-!” Keith wheezed, attempting to catch his breath. “Your face!”

 _Lance’s face_ was _just fine_ , Keith. After he relaxed it into a fond expression.

Keith’s laugh was - well, it was obnoxious, but it was strangely cute? Yeah, cute.

“You…” Lance started to say, paused, reworded in his head, and tried again. “I’m glad I could make you laugh,” he smiled, watching as Keith seemed to calm down a bit and wipe at his face with his hand, grin still plastered on his face. “You have a very nice smile.”

Keith’s grin slowly faded as he registered Lance’s words, dying down to a smaller, more honest, smile. “Thanks,” he breathed, “you do too, Lance.”

They both smiled at each other before the wind picked up and rustled Lance’s scarf. His hand went up to hold on to his hat before it had the chance to fly away.

“Ah, maybe we should head back to the car. Shiro would probably kill me if i brought his baby bro back too late.”

“...yeah.”

Lance began to turn around but caught a glimpse of Keith, backlit by his favorite time of day. A soft, golden glow encompassed him, his hair flowing gently with the smaller breeze that was sweeping through. Eyes shining with mirth and… something else he couldn’t quite name. A small smile remained on his face, and he found himself thinking.

Thinking that he could really get used to seeing this on the regular.

He let that thought settle around his head as it caused his chest to flutter and his cheeks to grow warm.

He quickly turned away and began the trek back to Blue.

Back to safety.

Back to…

Back to what, exactly.

He couldn’t run from Keith. He was going to be at the next shoot.

He can’t run from Allura or the next shoot.

This infatuation with Keith just now is just that. Not a crush. It won’t go anywhere.

_But what if it could?_

He had started arguing with his inner self he didn’t realize he was already at the car and unlocking the doors.

“Okay, so, where do you live?”

Keith listed off the address and he put it in his gps, starting Blue up.

 

* * *

 

The ride to drop Keith off was a quiet one, and when they finally got there, a small goodbye was said.

“Have a safe weekend, Keith.”

“You too, Lance.”

Lance put Blue into drive but didn’t release the breaks. He looked back over at Keith, who was watching him with a blank expression.

No smile.

His heart stuttered with his thought, which died on his tongue. He opened his mouth to try again.

“You’re going to have to show me this bike you’re building at some point,” he said, throwing Keith a challenging smirk. “Otherwise I won’t believe you.”

Keith’s eyebrow twitched as he matched Lance’s challenging tone and smirk, shoving his hands in his leather jacket. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you come over tomorrow.”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Lance teased, settling back into his seat. “Do I get to ride when it’s done?”

There was an innuendo there. Not that Lance was going to point it out. He would rather die.

Something sparkled in Keith’s eye and his smirk seemed to widen a little. “Fine, first thing when it’s done.”

Lance hummed, as if contemplating the offer. He looked back at Keith. “I’ll think about it.” He grinned and winked before putting the sunglasses on, pulling away from the curb. His heart was hammering, feeling like he trapped a couple of hummingbirds behind his ribcage.

He wasn’t helping getting over this infatuation stage by continuing being around Keith.

He let out a small breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

His chest ached with the captured hummingbirds.

His stomach flipped with the thought of seeing Keith again tomorrow.

And his face hurt from the smile that was still on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

It only occurred to him when he got home that he never actually _talked_ about astronomy with Keith.

He had gone back to the RV to grab his things. Had gone to his apartment. Had done his nightly routine. Was sitting on the couch with his music and a book, when realized.

A swear may have been uttered.

 

* * *

 

The next morning came by and Lance was up way before his alarm. For some reason.

He just stayed in bed after the fourth time he woke up to check his phone, staring at the ceiling and accepting this as his life now.

That, and somehow, Keith was invading his mind.

He wishes he could just forget that yesterday even happened. He doesn’t want to hurt this boy by getting his hopes up. He doesn’t want to get hurt himself. He doesn’t want to give his heart to someone just for that someone to turn around and break it. He’s got these walls up for a reason and he’s determined to keep reinforcing the bricks. Taking care of the creeping ivy that decides it wants to tip-toe it’s way in, over the wall.

Taking care of the cracks in the wall like tonight. He breathes in deep and fills the cracks with more cement.

He’s telling himself over and over that love - ah, heavy word - at first sight is _not a thing_. Just mentioning the word ‘love’ is making his chest flutter and his stomach churn in a oddly pleasant way and he does not like this. He’s not in love.

No.

He’s not.

He refuses to be.

Just because it’s happened before, several times, doesn’t mean he’s going to allow it to happen again. He refuses to be let down and he refuses to be hurt again. So he’ll keep reinforcing his walls.

He had closed his eyes and was focusing very hard on not seeing Keith’s dumb face in his head when his alarm went off, causing him to jump and almost collide with the floor if it weren’t for his perfect reflexes.

He took a moment to take in what just happened before shutting the alarm off with a small, prideful chuckle. It more or less sounded like “heh-heh” before he took a step in the direction of his bathroom, stepped on his shirt, and went down.

He groaned, face down into the carpet.

“This is all _Keith’s_ fault,” Lance growled into the floor, giving the carpet a punch before hoisting himself up, hair frazzled.

This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for Keith.

Keith, Keith, _Keith._

“I’m not going to let him win.”

Lance stomped his way to the bathroom, did his morning routine and came out to the living room. He had a towel on top of his head and dressed in his favorite blue and gold robe, and the blue lion slippers Hunk got him for his birthday a couple years ago.

They have matching ones.

Hunk’s are yellow.

He flopped onto the couch with a “hmph!” He had one arm dangling off the arm of the couch - he was slid down to where his butt was almost off the couch completely - and his legs were stretched out under the coffee table. He pulled his phone out with his other hand and placed it on his chest. He checked the time: nine forty-five. He checked his messages: one unread message with an attachment from Pidge. He clicked on it, pulling up the picture of the scheduled work out sessions.

Work out sessions.

...

Wait.

Fuck.

That was this morning.

Shit.

He jumped up, ran to the bedroom and threw off his robe, hearing it land somewhere behind him and sliding off some piece of furniture. Probably the chest at the foot of his bed. He dove unceremoniously toward his closet and threw on the work out clothes. He popped his head through the shirt when his phone started yelling at him with Pidge’s assigned ringtone. He grabbed blindly for the phone while he had one leg in his purple leggings and the other struggling to keep himself balanced.

He brought the phone to his ear, propping it between his shoulder and ear so he could finish getting ready. “Pidge! I’m sorry -”

“Ah-bup-bup,” they interrupted. “You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.”

“I know, I’m sorry -”

“Did you sleep in?”

“No! Well, yes, but -”

“Forgot to set your alarm again?”

“Yes, but -”

Pidge sighed over the phone. “Alright. I’ll be here for another five minutes. Just get here as soon as you can.”

Lance groaned. He’d have to book it to get to the gym Pidge was waiting at to get there in five minutes. Which meant he needed to leave now.

Right now.

He shoved his other foot into the other pants leg. “Alright, I’m on my way!”

“Okay. See you in five.”

“Okay,” he hung the phone up, shoved it into his leggings pocket, and made his way to the door. He snatched his headphones off the kitchen counter, grabbed his wallet and his keys, and locked the door behind him. He took the stairs two at a time, jumping the last four, and rounding the corner and repeating the process two more times. He about ran into Mrs. Colins, his old Sunday School teacher when he was young and she shot him a disapproving look, no longer able to tell him to “stop running in the halls, young lady!”

He smirked at her and burst out the apartment doors. Four minutes to get to the gym.

He took off in the direction, which was just a couple blocks down, but knowing Pidge, they’d be upset if he showed up on the dot.

 

* * *

 

By the time he showed up, Pidge was almost getting ready to pack their things up. When they looked up, adjusted their glasses, and locked eyes with Lance, he was pretty sure they were going to say “go home, too late.” Lance was heaving, having pushed himself to almost the limit, and was leaning against the wall next to Pidge.

“Alright,” Pidge dropped what they were doing and stood up. “Let’s hit the treadmill first. We’ve only got thirty minutes left so let’s make the most of it, go.”

They handed Lance a bottle of water and patted him on the back. “Good hustle getting here. I about gave up on you.”

Lance attempted to shoot them a wry smile, only succeeding in wheezing one more time. He opened the bottle and took a sip -

“Make sure that lasts you the thirty minutes.”

He almost spat it back out before looking around and spotting a water fountain mounted on the wall next to him. He turned back to look at Pidge, unamusement written on his face, only to see they had taken off to the treadmill area.

Something sparked in his eye and he capped the bottle and caught up with them. Nothing like friendly competition to get him going.

He had completely forgotten about Keith.

 

* * *

 

They ran. Stretched. Ran some more. Climbed stairs. Finished with yoga, even though the last part was only five minutes.

“Wake up early and do yoga in the morning before you come here.”

“Fine. I’m sorry about this morning -”

“Don’t wanna hear it. Just be on time tomorrow,” they smiled at Lance, patting his back. “Next time I won’t go easy on you.”

Lance sighed, rubbing the back of his sweat-cooled neck. Pidge leaned over and was doing up their shoes and Lance leaned back in his chair.

“How’s the diet? Do we need to change anything?”

Lance thought back to the diet Pidge had set him on and shook his head. “Nah, I think it’s still okay. I haven’t gained anything but I also haven’t lost anything with the diet.”

“Good, that’s what I wanted. I’ll set you on some more food to help boost your metabolism to drop a couple pounds for this session,” they paused. “Then after you can drop the diet -”

Lance sat up and whirled around at her. “Madu -”

“No. No sweets, but other than that you can drop the diet for a couple of days. _After_ the session.” They pointed at Lance. “No maduros.”

Lance sat back in his chair, crossed his arms, and huffed.

He wondered if he could get Hunk to make them for him in secret. He nodded. Yeah, Hunk would do that for him. Speaking of. He pulled out his phone and opened up snapchat. He stuck his tongue out with a pout, and closed one eye. He took the picture and managed to get Pidge on their phone in the background too. He captioned it with three thumbs-down emojis and sent it off to his story.

He swiped left and opened up Hunk’s story. The first one to pop up was Lance’s face in the makeup he was in yesterday and he smiled. Hunk really made him look stunning and he was so glad they were friends. The snap rolled to the next one, a video. It started off the camera pointed at the oven before Hunk opened it to reveal a casserole. There was no caption but lance thought it was baked potatoes and cheese. He swiped up and sent various emojis followed by “what is this please and can i eat it?”

The next snap was a picture of Hunk’s cat, a long haired golden tabby, sunbathing in the afternoon light streaming in from one of Hunk’s windows. It was captured so beautifully, Lance took a screenshot. He tapped on the right side of the screen and it opened up “aomgjaypark’s Story” but he quickly exited out of it, eyes up and looking around to make sure no one saw that.

He saw Pidge had just updated their story and sent them a quick glance. They were packing up their things. He clicked on their story and it pulled up Lance’s changing expressions in a video as he looked at Hunk’s story, then the camera switched to their face. They rolled their eyes. The video was captioned “why don’t you marry him” and he closed out of snapchat. He looked at Pidge, who was standing up with their bag over their shoulder, and stuck out his tongue.

They responded with a shrug, pushing their glasses up their nose. “Come on, I’ll jog with you back to your place and we can play Gauntlet: Dark Legacy or I can kick your ass in Overwatch.”

Lance shook his head, standing up. “I’m not pulling out Gauntlet again. Not after you about broke my controller when you died five times in a row on that one level.”

“Not my fault the controls are jank.”

“Who even uses that word anymore, Pidgeon.”

“Kicking your ass in Overwatch it is.”

Pidge made their way to the door and Lance followed suit.

“How about last one there has to play support?”

“You’re on,” Lance smirked.

They took off down the street and it may have been a little more than a jog. More of a competitive sprint. His long legs made up for his speed, but they were still pretty evenly matched.

They arrived there with panting breaths and still chose the stairs over the elevator. They fought with each other, shoving the other playfully while climbing the stairs. They both touched the door at about the same time, and with no one around to prove who touched it first, they decided on a draw - for now.

“I’ll -” Lance breathed, sucking in air, “I’ll get you… next time…”

“Over…” Pidge stumbled into the kitchenette, breathing heavily, “my… dead body…”

Lance waved them off, closing the door behind them and heading off to his bathroom to take a shower. “I’ll be… out in ten, fifteen tops…”

Lance heard a muffled groan from behind him and shut the bathroom door. He stripped and stepped under the shower head, turning on the spray. The bad thing about these showers in his apartments, they always come out too hot to begin with. When the spray hit him, the heat caught him off guard and he nearly fell with a curse. He quickly adjusted the temperature and did his best to avoid the water before it cooled down a bit. He sighed and rinsed his hair, placing a hand on the wall to hold him up.

He took a little longer than fifteen minutes and by the time he was out, he was feeling good as new. He shoved himself into some comfortable sweats and Hunk’s old shirt he left at Lance’s a good while ago and walked back into the living room.

“All yours, Pidge.”

They rose from their laying position and groaned. “Start up Overwatch, will you?”

“Will do.”

Pidge didn’t take nearly half as long as Lance did, and they were out in like five minutes. Lance looked at them with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Pidge shrugged. “I just needed to rinse off, geeze.”

“Gross, Pidge.”

“Whatever, neat freak.”

Lance put a hand to his chest and gasped. “Excuse.”

“You’re excused.”

Lance frowned and tossed them a controller when they finally sat down.

Neither of them chose support. Lance chose Sombra and Pidge chose Genji, and they played for a few hours.

Hunk came over with Sunshine, and they had dinner together.

“So where’s that dish you made earlier and what was it?”

“It was a potato and cheese casserole.”

He totally called it.

“Oh man, I wish I could’ve had some. Pidgeon is being hard on this diet.”

“Would you knock it off, I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Just because you want maduros and I’m telling you no, doesn’t make me a hard ass.”

“Yes it does,” Lance pouted, throwing his puppy dog eyes up to Hunk.

“Don’t look at me buddy. If I do that, Pidge will reprogram Honey to eject a knife or something when it gets close to me.”

“I wouldn’t…” Pidge looked mildly offended, but Lance saw that spark in their eye.

“Honey?” Who the heck was Honey.

“Honey’s my Roomba. Sunshine likes to ride on it’s back.”

“Oh my god you have got to get a snap of that and send it to me.”

Hunk chuckled, shaking his head. He took the plates and brought them back to the kitchen, placing them in the sink.

Hunk sighed when he came back. Sunshine was all over Lance.

Sunshine, being the most lovable and best cat in the universe, had sat herself on Lance’s thigh as they sat in the living room. Lance loved Sunshine and he showered her with the good scritches and she rewarded him with her deep purr.

“I swear she loves you more than me,” Hunk pouted.

Lance laughed. “Do you guys wanna watch a movie?”

“Oh, speaking of movies. Guess who got their hands on a copy of Coco?” Pidge dug in their backpack and brought the movie up with a flick of their wrist.

“Holy shit! Yes, put it in!”

Hunk settled into the couch and Sunshine dropped off Lance’s knee to go bathe in the last of the afternoon light. While Coco played it’s opening, Lance got up to make popcorn - non-buttery popcorn. He plopped back down inbetween the other two just before it started and placed the popcorn in his lap.

It was nearing ten at night, the movie finished and everyone had gone, Lance realised he was going to visit Keith and be shown his motorcycle that day.

Lance stared at the ceiling while trying to go to sleep, attempting to forget about the guilt he felt for showing him up. He didn’t have Keith’s number, so what was he going to do about it?

He turned over, mentally shrugging, and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Sunday came.

He felt a little bad after his workout session with Pidge. He couldn’t seem to get Keith out of his head. The guilt of not showing up on saturday was really weighing him down, and he decided he’d go visit today and apologize for yesterday. Hopefully it won’t be too big of a deal.

By the time he got there and knocked on the door, there was a loud bang from… the backyard? He wasted no time taking off to the back and busting through the fence gate, quickly scanning the area. It was _full_ of junk scattered about the grass. A small shed stood in the far left corner. He carefully made his way through, noting the car parts and tires strewn about.

There was another loud clang followed by a growl and “fuck!”

Lance got to the shed in time to get hit in the face with a flying small object. It hit him on the forehead, thankfully missing his eyes, and he went down with a crash.

When he came to, the first thing he noticed was a black mop of hair slowly come into focus.

“Huh?”

“Lance, can you hear me?”

Lance blinked a couple of times before attempting to sit up. He winced, bringing a hand up to the back of his head and pulling away to check for blood. No blood, but it hurt like a bitch. He turned around, one eye closed to stifle some pain, and winced at the spot his head was laying in. There was a tire there but he probably hit the metal part of the wheel. That’s probably what caused him to black out for…

“How long was I out?”

Keith huffed and shuffled into a more comfortable looking sitting position, one leg crossed in front of the other. “Literally a second or two,” he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. Lance watched the display and tried not to giggle at the streaks of grease left behind on Keith’s face.

Keith looked back up at Lance with a grimace, eyebrows knitting together. “Good to know you can laugh and that you’re not hurt.” He got up and brushed his hands on his knees.

Lance brings his hand to his forehead where he remembers getting hit to find a sizable bump, but thankfully no blood. “Yeah, no, I’m still in pain,” he winces, closing his eyes. Just his luck to come check in on whatever has happened back here and he’s the one getting hurt. He hears a bit of shuffling and then nothing. He’s tempted to open his eyes but leans back instead, putting his head back on the tire and pretending he didn’t just feel slightly dizzy from the motion.

Maybe he’d just lie here for a couple of minutes and Keith would be okay with that.

Keith, tho, has been very quiet.

He knit his eyebrows together, trying to pick up any sound that could give him a hint that Keith was close and hadn’t wandered off to leave him with a wound. What a host.

He hummed quietly in contemplation before sitting up suddenly -

Crashing his forehead into another object.

“Agh!”

“Shit!”

Lance leaned back on his elbow, his other hand coming to cover his forehead again, and peeked an eye open. “What’s your -”

Lance’s eyes snapped open and he felt his cheeks simultaneously drain of color and heat up. Keith had a hand over his mouth and had fallen back on his butt. “Fucking hell, that hurt.”

Lance was gaping, eyes wide.

Keith had cracked an eye open and was looking back at Lance. “What?”

“Wh-” Lance bristled. “What do you mean, ‘what?’ I could ask you the same thing!” He challenged, propping himself up more on his hands.

“I-It means exactly what I said! What?” Keith snapped, bringing his hand down from his face. He was fully looking at Lance now, a scowl on his face. Which was also red.

Lance’s heart was in his throat and it was beating a mile a minute. Connecting the dots himself, it appeared like Keith was trying to kiss his forehead. But, no! Why would he do that? _Maybe he was leaning over to look at me to make sure I was okay? Yeah let’s go with that._

Lance stood up, shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. Keith slowly rose from the ground, eyeing him suspiciously. “I wanted to apologize for not showing up yesterday, so I came over.”

Keith remained quiet and Lance refused to look back at him.

“Then I heard a loud crash as I was knocking on the door and came around to see if everything was okay and I don’t know why I’m explaining this to you but my original point was I’m sorry that i didn’t show up and I had no way of telling you that I was actually busy all day yesterday -”

“Lance.”

“...”

“It’s fine.”

Lance hummed, crossing his arms in front of him and glancing back at Keith.

“I’m sorry you got hit with a lug nut.”

“A… what.”

“Lug nut.” Keith pointed to the tire beside them and then crouched. “This part here.” He rested his finger on a bolt in the wheel and then tapped the fastener around it. “I had a few of them around my feet and i dropped the tire I was holding and one must’ve hit you.” He stood back up, rubbing his hands together to brush off dirt.

Wait.

Were those fingerless gloves on his hands?

Lance glared at them disbelievingly. “Fingerless gloves? Really?” He gestured at Keith’s hands with his own.

Keith looked at his hands and back at Lance. “What about them.”

“Tacky as fuck, Keith.”

“Hey, they’re good for this, for - for gripping!”

“Obviously not if you dropped a tire while wearing them,” Lance pointed out, cocking his hip out and placing his hands on his hips. He smirked when Keith sputtered for a minute.

“You startled me.”

Lance huffed a chuckle.

“Anyway, you couldn’t have told me this tomorrow while at work?”

“I won’t be at work tomorrow. My next shoot isn’t for a couple of weeks. The one you’re doing?”

“Oh.”

Lance hummed, looking Keith over once. “Oh, by the way you have some… grease… on your face. Here.” He gestured to his own face and pointed to Keith’s.

Keith sighed. “Figures.” He bent over and picked up a rag from the ground and started wiping his hands. He threw the towel over his shoulder and looked back at Lance. He watched as Keith’s eyes seemed to stare at his own face and was about to ask him why he was doing this, but Keith beat him to speaking first.

“Let’s get your cut cleaned up before you get Tetanus or something.”

“Woah, it’s a cut?” Lance gingerly placed his hand on his forehead, covering the place he was hit.

“Eh, it’s real small, not enough to draw a lot of blood,” he informed as he stepped over a metal pipe. “Come on, you can come inside. Shiro’s at his bar job so it’s just me.”

“The strip bar,” Lance cackled and followed him to the house, being careful to watch his step.

“Yeah,” Keith chuckled softly. “You know, funny story about you wanting to be a stripper. Shiro’s boss actually came up to me and asked me if I had considered it before.”

“You? Stripping?” Lance fumbled and almost missed his step.

“Well, I think she meant more of had I considered bartending before but now that I think about it, she may have meant the stripping part,” he opened the door and let Lance in first.

Lance looked around the house. The back door, where they were currently standing, was littered with different tool bags and some shipping boxes. He took off his shoes - having gotten the habit from growing up and generally hating wearing shoes inside - and placed them outside before Keith closed them in.

Keith sidestepped him and lead him to the only bathroom, which was surprisingly neat given the state of the backyard. Lance was still looking around.

“Two bed, one bath. It’s small, but surprisingly affordable.” Keith rummaged in the medicine cabinet next to the mirror and pulled out a small medicine kit. He pointed to the toilet, urging Lance to sit there as he opened up the kit and got out the supplies. Not that Lance thought he needed a lot since it was apparently a small cut.

Lance flinched when Keith pressed a hand to his forehead. “Mm, you’re a little hot.”

“Uh, thanks?” Lance’s voice cracked, staring up at Keith.

“I meant you’re warm. Feverish,” Keith rolled his eyes and turned away to get a swab and dab it in alcohol. “Do you need some medication for it?”

“N-no, I’m fine.”

“You don’t think you’re coming down with anything do you? Your cheeks are a little red too.”

Lance watched him with warmth in his cheeks and a frown on his face. He closed his eyes and bid the blush to go away before Keith returned with the swab. Lance opened his eyes but stared at the floor. “Still didn’t see the motorcycle,” he changed the subject.

“Really?” Keith stopped and threw the swab in the trashcan next to Lance. “She was out front.”

Lance glanced up at him with a question on the tip of his tongue before thinking better of it. “Guess I had too much on my mind to notice.”

“Oh?”

It was an invitation to talk about it. Lance tentatively reached out to accept it before pulling away the last minute, brushing it off. “It’s nothing.”

“Mm.” Lance heard Keith hum, guessing that the other dropped the issue. He was thankful he didn’t get pressed for answers.

A minute later a bandaid was pressed to his forehead with a lingering touch. He watched Keith’s eyes as they shifted around Lance’s face, Keith’s thumb brushing down and around Lance’s cheek. He cleared his throat and pulled back. “All done.” He got up and put the kit back where he found it and walked out of the bathroom. “Make yourself at home,” he offered, followed by a door opening. “I’ll be outside.”

Lance brought his hand up to the band-aid and stood from the toilet. His hand went to his cheek as he looked in the mirror. His face was a little flushed and he shook his head. _Get a grip!_ He slapped both of his cheeks with both hands and shook his head. 

He made his way out of the bathroom and was wondering what to do. He didn’t feel right just making himself comfortable in a place he’s never been in before, let alone without company. He walked back to the back door, opened it, and put on his shoes. He’d just keep Keith company then.

Closing the door behind him, he scanned the area and found Keith back under the shed. He approached and, from a safe distance, let his presence be known. Keith looked up, the grease still on his face, and waved him over.

“So, what are you working on?”

Keith was crouching in front of what Lance assumed was an engine.

“I’m just scrapping for parts.” He tapped his wrench on the pile in front of him and then gestured to the other pile next to him. Lance nodded and looked around. Seemed he had enough parts to build another motorcycle to Lance. Speaking of motorcycle.

“So you said your motorcycle was in the front?”

“Mhm.”

“Care to show me?”

Keith stood up and stretched and Lance _did not_ glance down where his shirt ended to see a little slither of skin before jumping back up to Keith’s face. “Yeah, sure. I can take you for a ride if you like.”

Lance gulped, kicking his own ass for even thinking that way. “Y-yeah, that’d be cool. You don’t have to drive your bike just to give me a ride though. It can wait.” He attempted to wave it off and push it for later.

“Nah I have to go down to the parts store anyway.” He leaned over and hefted up a bag of parts. “Gonna try to sell these for a little bit of cash.”

“Oh, in that case.”

“I also wouldn’t mind just giving you a ride sometime. I love driving her.”

Lance felt like he was going to combust and he was glad that Keith had turned around and was heading back to the house so he wouldn’t see his face. What was wrong with him? He’s usually smoother than this and not this flustered. He came here for one reason and now he’s got two other reasons keeping him here.

Lance caught up to Keith as they rounded the house. “So you keep referring to your bike as ‘she.’ Did you name her?”

“Of course. Her name’s Red. I was a little surprised Friday when you said your car’s name was Blue.”

“No shit,” Lance grinned, rounding the other corner and, lo and behold, there she was. Standing in all her glory, was Red. She was a red beauty with white accents on the wheels and handlebars. “Oh man, she’s gorgeous.” Lance noted the subtle change in color on the red paint where the light didn’t catch, turning it a soft shade of maroon.

“Custom red pearl paint job too.”

“Oh is that what’s changing it from red to maroon?” Lance reached out and brushed his hand over an odd shaped ‘v’ marking near the back.

“Yep,” Keith grinned proudly, patting her black leather seats with a gloved hand.

“Do you have an extra helmet?”

“No, but while I’m at the part’s shop I can pick up another one. Shiro doesn’t like to ride with me. He says I’m a ‘wild driver’ whatever that means,” he grabbed the red, black, and purple helmet and thrust it out to Lance.

“Oh, uh,” Lance hesitated.

“We’re literally going three blocks.”

Lance hummed, thinking back to the wild driver comment. “You go the speed limit and I’ll go.”

Keith rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Fine. Now take the helmet and put it on.”

Lance held the helmet in his hands and began putting it on his head. He pulled it down gently so he wouldn’t bother the bandaid on his forehead. He was immediately hit with what he assumed was Keith’s scent. It wasn’t exactly cologne, but he did catch a hint of spice. Cinnamon. Coconut? Something else that was just entirely Keith. He pushed up the protector with his thumb and released a breath. He inhaled slowly, getting another lungfull of whatever combination of smells this was that was making him so dizzy.

He found this scent very comforting and relaxing. It made his stomach do flips and butterflies be released into his chest.

Lance shook himself a little and looked over at Keith, who was zipping up a backpack and holding it up for Lance. “I’m gonna need you to wear this just until we get to the store.”

“Mm…” Lance took it and put it on his back, feeling like he just walked out of his high school. “Oh lord, the memories this brings back.”

“Oh?” Keith chuckled.

“Yeah, not the good ones either.”

Keith looked back up at Lance and his mouth quirked up at the corner. “Here.”

Lance jumped slightly when he felt fingertips brush his neck. “What are you -”

“Buckle,” Keith explained, and Lance only connect the dots when he heard a click, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Keith chuckled and tapped the side of the helmet. “Looks good on you.”

This was a mistake.

Coming here was a mistake.

He’s only digging the hole deeper and he’s getting more and more tempted to jump in.

The cracks are coming faster and spreading further along the wall.

Keith had straddled the bike and kicked back the kickstand, and started the bike up. She purred to life and relaxed to a comfortable rumble. He balanced her out and looked back at Lance who was standing there looking helpless.

“She sounds so nice,” Lance raised his voice over Red’s engine so Keith could hear, making him beam at Lance.

“Come on,” Keith waved him over.

Lance approached the bike and placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder to balance as he lifted his right leg and swung it over the seat behind Keith. He knew he’d have to sit closer to Keith and hold on tight. Wasn’t his first rodeo. He just didn’t want to.

Lance gulped and held onto Keith’s shirt, not prepared for when Keith revved the engine. They didn’t jerk forward, but it was more of a warning, Lance gathered. Keith reached one hand back and grasped one of Lance’s and pulled him forward, resting his hand around Keith’s stomach. Lance closed his eyes and lifted his head up, facing the sky. He brought his other hand around to his stomach and settled his chest against Keith’s back. He only hoped Keith couldn’t feel his heart hammering in his chest.

_Fuck._

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://okay-but-klance.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Fic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1281040626/playlist/7zHuypWAJNbqUtBwUtL2As?si=oymQiBw7TdOGdM3IOfNxsw)


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